When England gives you scones
by rissysaur
Summary: You use them as biodegradable bullets. It's Switzerland's birthday, and he's about to receive an unexpected present from a very unexpected... "friend". One-shot.


** Well... I don't really know what I just wrote. If anybody saw the headcanon about Switzerland using England's scones as artillery, then you'll know that that is where this idea came from. It's purely crack, and if you can catch the two references to another story in here, I applaud you xD As for my other story that I'm currently writing, I'm going to try to update it soon! So... Enjoy.**

Knock knock. Switzerland looked up from polishing the new gun that his sister had gotten him for his birthday and frowned. Now, who could that be, knocking on his chamber door? He put the gun down carefully on the coffee table in front of him, and stood up, brushing down his already perfect pants. The precious new bazooka would have to wait. Somebody was visiting.

Switzerland normally was not very fond of people approaching his house, unless it was his sister. But Liechtenstein always called in advanced, and today she had already visited to deliver his birthday present. Since it was his birthday after all, Switzerland was in a rather good mood, and decided he would save using his new bazooka for another day.

Opening the door, his eyes widened. Of all the people he had been expecting to bother him today, England had not been one of them.

"England…?" he started, completely dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, hello there Switzerland!" the visiting nation said, a smile on his face. "I heard that it was your birthday, and decided to drop by and give you a present! My, it sure came as a surprise to me that you didn't snipe me from your bedroom window!" he laughed, and Switzerland frowned once more.

"Yes, well, what is it?" England was certainly better than that prissy Austria, but… still. It didn't mean he'd rather talk to him than admire his new baby- gun. His new gun. Right.

"Ah, right! I was in the mood to cook, so I made you a nice batch of scones!" England pulled out a basket from his satchel (probably used some sort of creepy magic to make it fit), and Switzerland's face paled.

Oh.

Scones.

From England.

He'd heard the horror stories; who hadn't? It was his birthday, and Switzerland was most certainly not ready to die. He gulped.

"I see. T-thank you very much. How thoughtful." Reluctantly, he took the basket from England with a shaking hand. England looked absolutely delighted, as he handed it over.

"It was my pleasure, dear friend! Please, let me know if you ever want any more! Oh, you know, we should definitely get together for tea sometime! It would be splendid, don't you think?" England sighed, looking off into the distance. Switzerland took a step backwards.

"Certainly, that would be… most enjoyable," he said cautiously. "But if you don't mind, I have… business to attend to, and I must head off. Thank you again for stopping by."

"Business on your birthday? How terrible! Well, thank you so much for letting me stop by! Let me know how the scones were! Farewell!" England waved, and Switzerland nodded.

"Have a nice day." He closed the door and ran up the stairs. Oh, he had an idea for those scones.

Quicker than ever, he loaded them into his bazooka and ran to his bedroom window. Sure enough, there was England, skipping across his lawn, his stupid satchel swinging side to side. Switzerland took aim, then-

BOOM!

The scone-bullet whizzed through the air, and before England had time to turn around and see what happened, he was impaled in the back and fell face-first into the grass. Just to be sure, Switzerland fired another shot and it hit England in the back of the head. There was no way he would survive that.

Putting the gun back down, Switzerland rubbed his hands together. For once, he wouldn't have to worry about retrieving the bullets so the local animals wouldn't choke on them. The scones were biodegradable, and would eventually find there way back into the earth.

Quoth Switzerland, "Nevermore…" he let out a dark chuckle and turned around.

Now… where was he before England came along? Ah, yes, cleaning his new bazooka from Liechtenstein. Oh, he would have to show it off to Austria and Germany…


End file.
